


Oropher, Thranduil, Legolas

by KayleeArafinwiel



Series: Tales of the Elmoi [5]
Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-06 10:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayleeArafinwiel/pseuds/KayleeArafinwiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets and bits about the journey of three scions of the House of Elmo, the burdens of lordship and kingship, and the joys of fatherhood and childhood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Foretelling of Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief conversation between Lord Oropher of Doriath and Aran Thingol's sixteen-year-old adopted human son causes Oropher a few moments of unease. Triple drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In mine and Emma's 'verse, Oropher is the great-grandson of Elmo, brother to Elu Thingol. Our OCs, his father, Celepharn, and grandfather, Gwathion, aren't mentioned in this fic, but Gwathion is the younger brother of Galadhon (Tolkien's canon son for Elmo, and Celeborn's father). So our Oropher is first cousin once removed to Celeborn, and at this time in the First Age (FA 480), almost five hundred years old in our timeline. I've never done anything with Oropher and Túrin before (this is the first time I've written Túrin before at *all* that I can think of), but I think our Oropher would probably spend time with his uncle's human son and look after him, as at this point he has no wife or heirs of his own to worry over.

“That is not your blood, is it?” Oropher reached out and wiped it from the young Man’s cheek.

Túrin shook his head. “No, my lord,” he said quietly. “Saeros and I had another argument, and we came to blows.”

Oropher grimaced. Saeros was one of the most hot-headed of his uncle’s counsellors, and one of the most vocal about Elu Thingol’s adopted son. He failed to see why Aran Thingol did not simply replace Saeros with someone less…volatile, but that was the King’s prerogative, not his own. “Again?” he questioned gently, trying not to sound like he was patronising the Mortal boy. At sixteen summers, Túrin had dwelt in Menegroth seven years, and was swiftly nearing manhood. He was a more than fair swordsman already, much to Saeros’ displeasure. The two were always crossing swords, now that Túrin was allowed to carry his sword with him.

“Again,” Túrin muttered. “What does it matter that I am a human? I am just as good as any Elf at swordplay, and I will make my father’s House proud of me. I will be a great warrior some day. Nothing Saeros says can stop me from believing that.”

“I believe it,” Oropher agreed. “You will do your family proud, Túrin. We hold your kindred in high honour within this wood, even if Saeros himself does not. He will merely have to learn better manners.” _Before Túrin decides to give him lessons,_ Oropher added silently.

“I hope he will cease to trouble me, my lord. I cannot hold back my anger at these insults forever. Some day, they must be answered,” Túrin said.

Oropher said nothing, but a river of blood seemed to pass before his eyes. He firmly reminded himself that foretelling was _not_ one of his talents! At least, he hoped not.


	2. A Rabbit's Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten coronari old Legolas (4 in mortal years) and his Ada bond over a bedtime story.

"Once, long ago, a little rabbit lived far away, in a great kingdom. He was a very fluffy rabbit, with soft brown fur, and black eyes," Thranduil murmured, cuddling his little son close as he began the familiar tale. "He was his little master's most favourite rabbit. And his name was..."

"Helvui," Legolas interjected sleepily, reaching for the rabbit in question...who was, by now, a very old rabbit. Helvui's button eyes stared back into Legolas' sapphire blue ones, and Legolas smiled, hugging the special toy.

"His name was Helvui," Thranduil agreed, running slender fingers between the rabbit's floppy ears. "He was the most special rabbit in all of anywhere," Thranduil added, eyes twinkling. "Because his elfling said so."

 

"The High King said so."

 

"He did," Thranduil reflected, with a nod. "He liked Helvui, and Helvui's elfling, very much too. They were the High King's friends."

 

"Cousins," Legolas reminded Thranduil. "The elfling had lots and lots of those. The High King was one."

 

"He was," Thranduil agreed, laughing softly. "Helvui didn't, though. He didn't have any cousins at all."

 

"Poor Helvui." Legolas looked at Helvui, who looked suitably sad.

 

"Mhmm, poor Helvui. But he had many friends besides his elfling and the High King, you know," Thranduil said with a chuckle. "Cabor, and Huan, and Miel..." The frog, dog and cat in question sat nearby on Legolas' bed, and the elfling promptly scooped them all up at once.

 

"And...mm...And Tyuron."

 

"And Tyuron," Thranduil agreed, dropping the mouse on Legolas' head. The elfling crossed his eyes and squinted, trying to see what Thranduil was doing. "Silly elfling," Thranduil chuckled.

 

"Silly Ada."

 

"Silly Ada. All right then, guren." Thranduil shook his head. "Where was I, laes-nin?"

 

"Mmm...the bit about Helvui, and his elfling, and his elfling's Ada and Nana rabbit and everyone moved to the Greenwood and lived happily ever after for 'most forever, and now I tickle you," Legolas said breathlessly, before pouncing his father and doing just that. Helvui and his friends tumbled in an undignified heap on the floor, and Thranduil gasped with laughter. He was not slow to return the attack, and both king and little prince were suitably tired out before long.

 

"Goodnight, Ada," Legolas yawned, as Thranduil tucked him in bed.

 

"Goodnight, laes-nin." Thranduil tucked the stuffed animals in with his son. "Sleep well, guren." He settled on Legolas' bed himself and stroked his elfling's golden hair, joining him ere long on the Path of Dreams.

 

The End

 


	3. Too Many Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In T.A. 2319, little Legolas becomes concerned about the welfare of the forest.

 

"Ada, why do the Men cut down the trees? The trees never did anything to them," Legolas whispered, leaning against his Adar's knees. Thranduil cuddled Legolas close to his side. Thranduil's youngest, the little Prince was fairer spoken at ten coronari than Thranduil himself had been at that age; less innocent, and more observant.

 

"The Men need wood to build their homes, to light their cooking fires, and for many other reasons, Legolas," Thranduil said gently. "You are too young to remember, but we did not always dwell in these halls. Once upon a time we, too, were obliged to fell trees for building." Thranduil's voice was deep with regret. "The forest will grow overcrowded if some of the trees are not removed, and that is not healthy."

 

"But they take too many!" Legolas cried out. "The trees say so!"

 

Thranduil stilled, looking down at his youngest. "Do they, guren?" he asked softly. Legolas nodded vehemently. "They do. They say so, Ada. I heard them."

 

"Then we shall make sure they do not take too many from now on," Thranduil said firmly. He had learned to listen to the wood, though he now dwelt in halls of stone. "We will let the trees know." Satisfied, Legolas snuggled into his father's embrace.

 


	4. Sweets, Ada?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young Legolas takes after his Ada in more than just physical features. In 2321, Legolas is an elfling of twelve, or approximately five mortal years.

T.A. 2321

 

"Ada, Ada, Ada!" Little Prince Legolas pulled at the sleeve of his father's tunic as the _aran_ walked through the market. Guards followed them discreetly, but none would begrudge Thranduil this time to spend with his youngest child.

 

"Yes, guren?" Thranduil asked fondly, ruffling the little boy's blond hair. "What is it, my heart?"

 

"Ada, sweets!" Legolas pointed to Mistress Eirien's sweetshop, and Thranduil laughed.

"Sweets, my heart? Very well, you have been an extremely good elfling for me. What shall we have?"

 

"Strawberry." As Thranduil nodded agreement, Legolas bounced alongside him. "And apple, and honey, and those new sweet biscuits like our Ivy learned to make, and..."

 

Ah, the seduction of sweets! Thranduil smiled to himself as Legolas kept up his chatter. Yes, Legolas was his father's son. Once upon a time, Thranduil, too, had only had sweets to worry about. It was nice to revisit those days, even if only briefly, through his beloved elfling, Thranduil reflected, as he bought the sweets. His sweetest treasure, though, was the golden-haired child now wrapped around his legs. "Be safe, my heart, Belain willing," he whispered. 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> All Elvish words are Sindarin.
> 
> Ada = Papa, diminutive of Adar, 'father'
> 
> Aran = King
> 
> Guren = 'my heart', from 'gur nin'
> 
> Belain = Powers, the Sindarin equivalent of Quenya "Valar". The singular would be Balan or (in Quenya) Vala.
> 
> Additional notes: "Ivy" is a reference to Mistress Ivoniel, childhood nursemaid to Thranduil's father Oropher. She is a grandmotherly figure to both Thranduil and Legolas, in mine and Emma's series. :) Ivoniel's name means "daughter of Ivon", the Sindarin name for Yavanna, Giver of Fruits.


End file.
